


heart like a broken mirror

by sunbean72



Series: Then [6]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, JARVIS! ILY man, Post-Iron Man 1, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, before iron man 2 tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-08 00:13:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17375858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunbean72/pseuds/sunbean72
Summary: TonyisIron Man, but Pepper is still Pepper, doing anything and everything Mr. Stark requires. She's just not as certain as she used to be what that is.





	heart like a broken mirror

_But you'll die!_

_Push it!_

Pepper woke suddenly, fright scattering her thoughts like a gust of wind the leaves. It took a long moment to resettled, to resurface, to reassure herself-- it was a dream. He was safe. She was safe. 

She climbed out of the leather reclining chair, sleepy and irritated at how her leg stuck to the leather, sweaty from the nightmare. Disoriented she tried to check the time but couldn't find her phone. 

"JARVIS--"

"Yes, Miss Potts?"

"What time is it? And have you seen my phone?"

"0347 am. I believe your phone can be located under the pillow on the floor."

"Thanks." She fished her phone out from under the pillows she'd shoved off in her sleep, doing a quick check of her notifications. Welp. Too many to worry about right now. She turned it off, annoyed that she had no pocket for it.

Her fashionable and functional work clothes were wrinkled, damp with sweat, and incredibly uncomfortable. Her irritation both with herself and the situation grew. She had only meant to stay a couple of hours to make sure Tony went to bed. He had and she'd told JARVIS to tell her if Tony couldn't sleep, but she'd dozed off. Her back ached from sleeping awkwardly. And unlike Tony, she didn't care for the window wall that gave an unrestricted view of the ocean. Especially at night, when she couldn't pierce the darkness, it seemed too open, too swallowing. She preferred the city. 

She meandered over to the kitchen, debating the merits of going home at this hour versus going to her "room." Tony had insisted on getting her quarters in the mansion, mostly for late nights working or if she needed a change of clothes for some whim of his-- a party or a dinner or inviting random people over. She's haughtily never used it; it wouldn't have been professional. Plus she didn't want to give Tony the satisfaction of using something he'd no doubt smirked the entire way he was creating, pushing the bound of propriety because that's what he _did._ If there were pajamas in there, they were probably completely inappropriate.

She poured herself a glass of water and took a long drink. Somehow, the water always tasted _so good_ in the mansion, just the right temperature from the tap but refreshing. She needed to find out what filter he used her and get one for her office or her house. It was probably--

"Miss Potts, you wished to be informed if Mr. Stark was awake."

The sudden though gentle interruption startled her and she sloshed some of the water. "Oops. Thanks Jarvis, is he going back to sleep?" She didn't want to know the answer if it wasn't _yes;_ she hadn't anticipated staying as long as she already had. It was just that after the press conference where Tony outed himself as Iron man, there had been _so much to do_ with endless calls to lawyers and lawmakers and military representatives and reporters. Coulson had taken the deviation from the script in typically phlegmatic fashion as if Tony had made some comment on the weather and had calmly offered to assist her in damage control. So there were people to help her with all of it, except with Tony himself. For him, she only trusted herself, and he'd been a rare (lately) manic state, difficult to predict or control until exhaustion and her constant bullying finally succeeded in forcing him to bed two hours ago.

"I don't believe he is planning on going back to sleep. Shall I remind him you are here?" He asked delicately. The AI knew her well; in the three months Tony had been in Afghanistan (being tortured, she couldn't help but remind herself as horrible as it was) she had spent a lot of time every day with JARVIS. It was a connection to Tony and it was the only thing she could _do._ An unfortunate side effect, though, was that JARVIS was eerily prescient lately, anticipating her at odd moments.

"Of course," she said, somewhat grumpily. She ran her fingers through her hair to try and tame the bedhead she'd developed but an instant later JARVIS interrupted her grooming.

"Sir asked me to tell you to go home immediately. He offered the use of a driver or a taxi if you are not feeling up to driving at this late hour." His tone had changed from _her_ JARVIS to something else and she supposed that meant he didn't agree with what Tony was asking.

"JARVIS is... is Tony all right?" The fact that Tony hadn't told her to use her room, the fact that he was circumventing possible excuses to stay before she even made them filled her with sudden worry. She bit her lip, her recalcitrance to stay and her tiredness abated. All she felt now was worry.

There was a long silence from JARVIS before he answered, stoking her fear. "Sir says he does not require anything at the moment, Miss Potts." 

Smoothing over her clothes, Pepper lifted her chin and walked toward Tony's bedroom. It was an unbearable breech of their professional boundaries they had tacitly drawn. She might take out the trash but she never dug through it and she'd never been in his bedroom except to help him pick outfits, and once or twice tuck him in when he was drunk. She noticed her heart pounding and scolded herself. It was just Tony. It was Tony.

She knocked on his door, three precise and rapid taps that brooked no argument. The prim set to her lips she had affected as she expected him to answer the door in irritation slid off her face as there was no answer. She knocked again, more timidly this time. "Tony?" She called softly. No answer. She tried the handle-- locked.

"JARVIS... JARVIS open the door."

"I am unable to comply, Miss Potts."

"D-do it, or I'll... I'll turn off the power, Tony!" She told him loudly. "Open this door!"

She bit her lip, waiting, more anxious by the moment before she heard the lock release. She went in quickly before he could change his mind, trying to prepare herself for whatever she'd find inside. He might be a mess, drinking, who knows what--

It was just Tony. He was sitting on the floor at the end of his bed, shirtless, absently rubbing his chest around the arc reactor implant. She went quickly over to him and knelt awkwardly beside him. He looked up at her warily. "No need to break down the door, Potts." He had tried for acerbic, but it had come out a bit pitifully. He frowned. "I said go home."

"I know."

"I'm still your boss."

"I know. I'm not here as your PA. I'm here as your friend, I was worried about you."

He bumped his head against the bed, closing his eyes. He looked terrible, pale and tired. "Nothing to worry about. I left a window open and I got cold. That's all."

She thought that was not all and eyed him skeptically. "Tony..."

"The arc reactor casing," he said reluctantly, not opening his eyes. "When it's cold. It hurts a bit, keeping me awake, but I'm fine."

"I see." She went and picked up the sweatshirt on the chair and brought it to him. He slid it over his head. In the dim light, she noticed an odd black mark streaking away from the casing. "What's that?"

"I don't know. It's nothing."

She paused. "Is there a particular reason you're on the floor, Tony? Or can we get you back to bed?"

"Yes."

"Yes, you'll go back to bed?" She prodded when he didn't move.

"No. Yes there is a particular reason I'm on the floor."

"Okay... care to share that reason with me?"

"No," he replied irritably, still not opening his eyes. "This is why I just wanted you to leave! I don't want to talk about it! There's nothing anyone can do about it! The last thing I need right now is to be hen-pecked!"

"What do you need, Tony?" She asked gently, ignoring his irritation and anger entirely. She'd nursed him through much worse hangovers than this.

"To be left alone!" He snapped, finally opening his eyes to glare at her. 

"I will leave you alone if that's what you really want Tony. But I don't think that's what you want. Will you... can you talk to me? Please?"

"Pep--" his face crumpled with anguish and he put his hand across his face, trying to hide his pain. No sunglasses, no armor, no charming grin. Just Tony. She readjusted her position so she was sitting beside him, her arm against his and he dropped his hand, clearly fighting back emotions and tears.

"I'm here Tony. It's okay."

"I killed Obadiah," he said, his eyes closed again, the words shivering as if about to break.

Pepper breathed in sharply and held her breath, her heart aching for her boss, for her friend. For Tony. A thousand rebuttals to his declaration flitted through her mind, but Tony Stark was a brilliant man and he surely knew all the arguments against what he said. On the other hand, perhaps it wasn't enough to think about the counterpoint. Perhaps he just needed to hear it from someone else.

"Tony, it wasn't your fault." She slid her hand to his, resting it on his as gently as she knew how. He was not fragile, was he? He was Iron Man, he was Tony. But she thought the slightest pressure might break him. 

He nodded but then a sob broke from him and she froze, helpless against his trauma and pain and anguish and guilt and sorrow. The flutter of anxiety that she'd been carrying since he returned from Afghanistan stirred within her. He'd spent three months in captivity and he'd sometimes scared her, as if some of the cold, the pain had carried over and the light in his chest could not entirely dispell the darkness. She knew he harbored that darkness within him though it was not a part of him nor within his power to overcome. It was inflicted on him, a layer at a time through torture, through pain, through hunger and thirst and sleeplessness. 

Through her anxiety and fear for him, she felt something else, admittedly, not entirely unexpected-- a warm something, a small, untouchable something. Call it trust. Call it love. It was soft and unshakable and it was all she had against everything he'd been through, and it didn't seem like much.

She let him cry a few minutes before standing and pulling him to his feet. He was reluctant, heavy, tired, bearing too much weight on his shoulders. She couldn't bear any of it for him, but she could be with him. She put her hands on his face, wiping away his tears with her thumbs. He leaned into her hand, his eyes closed, his sobs subsided but tears still falling. 

"All right, Boss," she said. "All right." 

She hesitated a moment longer, not sure if following her inclination would help or hinder, if it could affect their relationship which was already on new and shaky ground, if it was what he needed or what she did. But she took him in her arms and hugged him tightly. She felt him stiffen in surprise for a split second then relax into her embrace. His tears dried; her heart fluttered, treacherously. The warmth of him, his smell (devoid of alcohol, at least; he'd had to detox in Afghanistan and rarely drank, but lately he'd been drinking more, it worried her), the light from the reactor, the prickle of his cheek against her neck as he leaned down, it was him and he was safe and she would _help him through this--_

She held him as long as he wanted, waiting for him to pull away. It felt, it felt nice to hold him, just feel his _aliveness_. After she and Coulson had found him on the roof, there had been a horrible few minutes she'd thought she'd lost him, after all. But he was here. He was hurt, he was bruised, he was far from okay, but he was safe right now. He looked down in her face, a soft smile around his lips. It wasn't the smirk, it wasn't knowing or laughing at her like usual. It was thankful. Soft. She returned it. "Come on. I'm canceling your meetings tomorrow."

His face darkened. "No, we can't I have to--"

"There's _nothing_ you _have_ to do, Tony. I'm here. All right? I'll help you." He carried too much on his shoulders. 

He looked at her skeptically before giving her an honest to goodness smile. "You in charge, huh? Not really that bad of an idea."

"As _if_ you'd put me in charge. You never do what I tell you," she said with an approximation of irritation, though she couldn't bring herself to be mad at him at all at the moment.

"The trick is to tell me to do what I was already going to," he said wisely, allowing her to guide him back to bed. He paused. "Heading out?"

"I think I'm just going to sit here a few minutes. Rest my legs. I did a lot of standing up today, in heels, no fun." She curled up in a chair, pulling a blanket across her lap and pulling out her phone.

He smirked at that but took a deep breath and let it out, closing his eyes. He was a long way from all right, a long way from being okay, but there was one thing he had now he didn't before-- he wasn't alone. It wasn't long before he drifted off, and for the first time in a long time, his sleep was deep. And untroubled.

**Author's Note:**

> right okay this isn't that great but it's kind of soft and squishy let me know if you liked comments are always very appreciated.


End file.
